The Man Who Can't Be Moved
by LilyAnneMarie
Summary: When all else fails, leave it to Edward Cullen to find a way back into love. One-shot.


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I do not own Twilight or the song used. All rights go to their respective owners.

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I marched determinedly down the hot, crowded streets of Chicago. Bystanders kept shooting me dirty glares, probably due to the blue sleeping bag tucked beneath my arm. Or maybe it was the cardboard sign and picture I was carrying. Either way, I didn't care.

The sweltering summer heat didn't bother me either. I would wait as long as it took.

I reached a street corner facing Lake Michigan and instantly knew it was the right one from the way my heart threatened to beat out of my chest. This was where I first saw her. Isabella Swan.

It was a cold day in December as I made my way down through the white snow. They were predicting a blizzard tonight, and I wanted to beat the afternoon rush to get home. I tucked my gloved hands into the arm pits of my gray pea coat, trying to gain some body heat in the vicious snow. I wasn't paying attention to where I was going, because before I knew it, I bumped into someone.

Hot coffee spilled onto my customized coat, while the woman fell backwards onto her rear end.

"I'm so sorry!" she said, propping herself on her elbows.

I was struck by her natural beauty. She had chocolaty brown hair, the same color of her eyes, and a small, perfect nose. Her cheeks were highlighted with a crimson red, embarassed from our collision. She wore a long white cloth coat with large white buttons going up the center and a pair of black pants. I grinned my famous crooked grin as I ran my hands through my copper colored hair-- a habit I had a tendency of doing when I was nervous.

"It's fine," I replied, reaching down to help her up.

"I'm Isabella Swan, by the way." She brushed off her clothes. "But you can call me Bella." She thrust her hand outwards.

I took her soft, pale hand in my rough, equally pale one. "Edward Cullen."

And love walked into my life, in the form of a short brunette with hot coffee in her delicate hands.

"Son? Son!"

I broke out of my stupor to see an old man with white hair sticking out in tufts under his royal blue Cubs cap.

"Yes?" I responded.

He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a black leather wallet. "How much?"

I had to laugh at this gesture.

"I'm not broke," I responded when the crazy looks kicked in. "I'm just a broken-hearted man."

He smiled and began to walk away.

"Wait!" I called. The man stopped in his tracks and turned to face me. I held up the picture that lay on my sleeping bag.

"If you see this girl," I said. "can you tell her where I am?"

He studied the photo for a minute before nodding. "Sure. Will do."

I laid back into the comfort of my sleeping back when he left, letting the August heat bathe my face. This was crazy, and I knew it more than I knew anything. But if she were ever to change her mind, how could I not be here when she passed?

So I'm not moving.

A cop car rolled up onto the side of the pavement, stopping when they saw me. The passenger window was cracked open, the cop leaning out of it. He was pale and balding, and rather round. That's what most Chicago cops look like, however. Leave it to the city with deep dish pizzas to beef up security-- literally.

"Son," Cop Baldie called to me. "you can stay here."

I sat upwards, my legs forming a pretzel. "There's someone I'm waiting for."

He raised a thick black eyebrow-- the color his hair must have been when it was still there. "How long?"

"I don't know," I mumbled. "A day, a month, maybe a year."

His jaw dropped, his eyes widened.

"I gotta stand my ground," I explained. "She'll know if she changes her mind."

Without any further questions, the window rolled back up as he swerved back into city traffic.

***

Two days had gone by, and I was attracting quite a crowd. News vans and reporters crowded around my small circle, surprised by my spunk. Every way I turned, a microphone or a camera was being shoved in my face.

"This man has been waiting on a girl--"

"There are no holes in his shoes--"

"But a big whole in his world."

"How do you feel about this?" one asked.

"I just want her to come," I told them sincerely. "I want to apologize. Bella, if you're watching this, know that I was a jerk. And I'm sorry. So, so sorry."

**Bella Swan**

It had been two weeks since Edward and I broke up. I couldn't do anything-- I couldn't eat, I could sleep-- nothing. He broke my heart-- so I broke his right back.

***

"Edward!" I complained as he stormed through the doors of my apartment, late for another date as usual. "You can't keep doing this! You're always late! Never have you once shown up on time! What's with you?!"

He was fixing his tie in the mirror, ignoring my complaints. I stormed over and tugged his tie so he was facing me.

"Answer me!" I spat through gritted teeth.

He carefully pried my fingers from his deep blue tie, pinning my hands to my sides.

"Look, I'm sorry, okay?" he said quickly, turning his attention back to the mirror.

I threw my hands into the air in exasperation. "You're _always_ sorry! Every time you say that, Edward! But you don't mean it-- you _never_ mean it! I'm tired of coming second in your life! It's been two years, Edward! We haven't even set a date for the wedding! How can you say you're sorry when you obviously don't care?"

Tears were welling up in my eyes, threatening to spill over any moment. His hands stopped fumbling with the tie-- which was already in place-- as he turned to me.

"I care," he stated, trying to woo me with those green emeralds that were his irises.

"Obviously not," I mumbled, turning away. "I can't do this anymore, Edward. I can't."

"Can't do what?" he pressed shakily.

"Can't..." I heaved a deep sigh, tears blinding my vision. "I can't see you anymore. What I need... you can't give me. Goodbye, Edward."

I pushed him towards the door, and he didn't protest. He was too stunned. I slammed the door in the face, using all the restraint I had not to peek through the peephole.

***

Since then, I'd had sixty-three calls, forty-nine messages, one hundred-four text messages, and at least twenty messages he had tried to pass on through my friends and family.

My apartment was a wreck. I hadn't cleaned it since he last left, dust was beginning to collect on the furniture, and the carpet needed to be vacuumed. It didn't matter, though.

A sharp knock on the door awoke me from my stupor. I lay on my couch, not even budging to answer it.

"Go away," I moaned miserably.

"Bella! Open up, or God help me I'll break this door down!"

Reluctantly, I stood and cracked open the door, not even bothering to see who it was before I went to sit back down. If it was a robber, they could have everything. Edward had already stolen my most prized possession: my heart.

My sister, Nessie, along with her fiance-- my best friend-- Jacob, bounded through the door, both looking around at my filthy place.

"Turn on channel seven," she ordered me, her chocolaty curls bouncing as she raced towards the television. Without giving me a chance to ask questions, she slammed her hand down on the power button of my black flat screen as the screen lit up.

"I'm here on the corner of East Elm and Sullivan with, as some call him, the man who can't be moved," a blond woman announced to the camera. "His name is Edward Cullen, and he's waiting on a girl."

I gasped. "E-Edward?"

"So tell us, Edward," the woman said to him. "How do you feel about this?"

"I just want her to come," he told them, his face serene and serious. "I want to apologize. Bella, if you're watching this, know that I was a jerk. And I'm sorry. So, so sorry."

Nessie was standing with her arms crossed, waiting for my verdict. I looked to her, then to Jake, then back again. Timidly, I pointed my index finger towards myself, a silent question of _Me?_.

"Yes, hon," Jacob said, plopping down beside me and wrapping a comforting arm around me. "You."

"T-that can't be," I stuttered.

"Will you just shut up and go get him already!" Nessie exclaimed rudely, yanking me off my seat. "Go change. Jake will go with you. I'm going to clean your pigsty of a house."

**Edward Cullen**

Rain began to fall softly on the pavement, cooling down the scene. People began to scurry away, back to the shelter of their warm apartments. But I stayed. I had to. I wanted to.

Street performers began to close in on me, one of them carrying a guitar, strumming softly on it. I began to throw in the lyrics as I recognized the song.

"Going back to the corner, where I first saw you," I sang. "Gonna camp in my sleeping bag I'm not gonna lose. Got some words on cardboard, got your picture in my hand. Saying 'if you see this girl will you tell her where I am?"

A crowd began to form once more, listening as I sang a few more bars.

"Cause if one day you wake up and find that you're missing me, and your heart starts to wonder where on this earth I could be," I continued a few measures later.

"Thinking maybe you'd come back to the place that we'd meet," a feminine voice rang through the crowd. I stood up, searching through the sea of heads before I saw a familiar brunette, her eyes filled with tears. Bella. Jacob Black had his arm wrapped around her in a comforting manner, their hair wet with rain.

"Then you'd see me waiting for you, on the corner of the street," I sang, a little stronger.

Bella pushed through the crowd, running into my embrace. The street performer continued his song, taking my place in singing. Everyone let out a loud "aww" as Jacob stood back, his arms crossed in satisfaction.

"So I'm not moving," I sang into her ear. "I'm not moving, yeah."

She looked up at me, rain splattering on her naturally beautiful face. "I love you."

"I love you, too," I told her. "And I promise we'll set a date for the wedding."

As our lips pressed together, I was silently grateful that I was the man who couldn't be moved.

"Going back to the corner,  
where I first saw you  
Gonna camp in my sleeping bag,  
I'm not gonna move  
Got some words on cardboard  
Got your picture in my hand  
Saying _if you see this girl can you tell her where I am_  
Some try to hand me money  
They don't understand,  
I'm not broke I'm just a broken hearted man  
I know it makes no sense  
What else can i do?  
How can I move on  
When I'm still in love with you?

Cause' if one day you wake up  
and find that your missing me  
and your heart starts to wonder  
where on this earth I could be,  
Thinking maybe you'd come back here  
to the place that we'd meet  
Then you'd see me waiting for you  
on the corner of the street,  
So I'm not moving  
I'm not moving

Policeman says _Son you cant stay here_  
I say there's someone I'm waiting for if its a day, a month, a year,  
Gotta stand my ground,  
even if it rains or snows,  
If she changes her mind,  
this is the first place she will go

Cause' if one day you wake up  
and find that your missing me  
and your heart starts to wonder  
where on this earth I could be,  
Thinking maybe you'd come back here  
to the place that we'd meet  
Then you'd see me waiting for you  
on the corner of the street,  
So I'm not moving  
I'm not moving  
I'm not moving  
I'm not moving

People talk about the guy,  
thats waiting in on a girl  
Woah oh  
There are no holes in his shoes,  
But a big hole in his world  
Ooh  
Maybe I'll get famous for **the man who can't be moved**,  
and maybe you wont mean to but you'll see me on the news,  
and you'd come running to the corner,  
Cause' you'll know its just for you  
I'm the man who cant be moved  
I'm the man who cant be moved

Cause' if one day you wake up,  
and find that your missing me,  
and your heart starts to wonder  
where on this earth I could be,  
Thinking maybe you'd come back here  
to the place that we'd meet  
and you'd see me waiting for you  
on the corner of the street  
so I'm not moving  
I'm not moving  
I'm not moving  
I'm not moving

Cause' if one day you wake up,  
and find that your missing me,  
and your heart starts to wonder  
where on this earth I could be,  
Thinking maybe you'd come back here  
to the place that we'd meet  
and you'd see me waiting for you  
on the corner of the street

Going back to the corner were I first saw you,  
Gonna camp in my sleeping bag and I'm not gonna move."

--The Script "The Man Who Can't Be Moved"

**Author's Note: A little one-shot for you. What'd ya think? I made up that street, btw. There really is an Elm, but idk about Sullivan-- and I don't think it's where I want it to be in Chicago. I live outside of it, so I have a pretty good understanding of the city. And for those of you have never been to Chicago or any city for that matter, there are TONS of street performers, and they do come up to you. But they probably wouldn't play that song unless they had money, LOL. I saw one dancing to "Beat It" by Michael Jackson once. It was fun ;D**

**_Going back to the corner where I first saw you, gonna camp in my sleeping bag, I'm not gonna move_... Reviews? Comments? Click that button!**

**--Lauren :D**


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